


i'd love it if we made it

by sweetlikehoney (Nina_Carter)



Category: Canada's Drag Race RPF, RuPaul's Drag Race (US) RPF
Genre: F/F, summer lovingggg
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-26
Updated: 2020-12-26
Packaged: 2021-03-11 04:20:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,709
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28328901
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nina_Carter/pseuds/sweetlikehoney
Summary: All of Priyanka’s friends seem to be settling down or moving away, but she’s stuck in her hometown.Eat. Sleep. Work. Repeat.October takes away the last tourists but brings a new girl, in need of some company.For the songfic exchange ♡
Relationships: Lemon/Priyanka (Drag Race)
Comments: 13
Kudos: 29





	i'd love it if we made it

**Author's Note:**

  * For [alittlebitcloser](https://archiveofourown.org/users/alittlebitcloser/gifts).



> Song fic exchange said '1k minimum' so I did this to myself ♡ It started as a one shot but it got away from me.
> 
> Merry Christmas to Kerry, the ultimate holiday dyke! This fic is based on 'ILYSB', but the original concept came from the song 'Cruel Summer' by Bananarama, which I also know because of Kerry, so it's very full-circle.
> 
> A million thanks to Joley, who beta'd, and my friends who reviewed this and made me cry.
> 
> Some warnings apply, you can find them in the end notes.

Priyanka sways her foot back and forth, dragging the skate on gravel. The drop isn’t steep, but it’s taller than what she’s been doing. Three feet is tall enough to break something important, probably. It definitely feels like it.

Sweat beads down her leg, reaching the scab on her knee and making it itch. She kind of regrets swapping her usual shorts and tank top for jeans and an oversized tee shirt in eighty degree weather, but she’d stupidly thought she needed to wear that, some sort of unspoken uniform that helped everyone skate better. Most importantly, she’s learned the hard way that her usual shorts are useless when she lands on concrete.

No one is ever around to witness her falls. October swept away the last straggling tourists and left Priyanka's home a ghost town, although her mom doesn’t like it when she says that. And this particular skatepark, less a park and more a block of concrete with some ramps, has been demoted to a hangout spot where local teens hide to drink and smoke. No one in their right mind would skate there in the afternoon, when the sun bears down on the pavement and the heat can be felt a block away. No one, except for Priyanka. She's tried going in the mornings, but some parents use the park to teach their kids how to roller skate or ride a bike, and she doesn’t need these people staring as she falls on her ass more often than their four year olds.

She’s already embarrassed at the whole thing. She's twenty five and devoting time and effort to a hobbie aimed at teenagers. Problematic teenagers, at that.

The skate was an impulse purchase. A girl that Priyanka went to high school with had a baby the past month. Her mom found out from a neighbor who found out from a friend who found out from the fresh-made grandma. A girl her age got a baby, so she bought a skateboard.

Falling is a lot more painful than Priyanka remembers from childhood. Maybe because she’s further away from the ground, maybe her bones are worn down from carrying her places, but every fall feels like she won’t recover. Still, she shows up every day. In her rattiest jeans and with her second-hand skate, she climbs higher and higher ramps and tries to fall less, or at least fall better.

* * *

She’s been at the register for an hour and has only seen four customers. The latest one is a woman in her fifties that Priyanka doesn’t recognize, which means she’s a tourist, a rare sight in October. Most families visit her town in the summer, then leave before the wave of twenty year olds arrives in October. They show up, wreck the streets, cover the beach in vomit and fuck off until next year.

The woman doesn’t need Priyanka’s help. No one ever does. The convenience store is so small and unfrequented that Priyanka handles the afternoon shift by herself, and still has a lot of dead time. All in all, out of the seven hours she gets paid to be there, Priyanka works maybe three. It’s why she doesn’t fully think of herself as a productive member of society, although her mom doesn’t like it when she says that. But it’s true. She sits behind the counter and twiddles her thumbs waiting for someone to come in.

The store’s owner lives in the next town over and manages the stores of his supermarket chain that actually make a decent profit. He used to be more involved, but during Priyanka’s second year at the store, he realized he wouldn’t need to commute if he just made Priyanka do the bookkeeping. Now he shows up once a month, if that, or not at all in the off season.

So Priyanka restocks twice a month, mops the floor a little before closing, resists the urge to eat a bag of chips a day. Fixes the shelves, files her nails. Counts the ceiling tiles. Watches soap operas. Dozes off from boredom and only wakes up if the bell on the door happens to ring.

* * *

The dryer is freaking out, again. It tumbles and whirrs as soon as Priyanka turns it on, so she holds it down with both hands and rests her whole weight on it until it’s stable again. She takes a tentative step back, but the little tyke seems to have calmed down for now.

Priyanka gets her rice off the stove and strains it over the sink, eyes fixed on the episode of  _ Love Is Blind _ playing on her laptop, and somehow only burns herself once. She adds leftover stir fry to her plate and takes a picture of it to send to her mom, so she’ll see that Priyanka is eating well and will maybe stop dropping by unannounced to give her food, then see the mess in her house and scold her for twenty minutes non stop while aggressively dusting furniture and sweeping the floors.

Priyanka settles on the couch and props her laptop on a pile of clean laundry that she’ll put away right after this episode, promise. On the screen, one of the contestants takes back his marriage proposal, and Priyanka is so stunned that she drops the fork and starts texting with her mouth still full.

_ Pri _ _  
_ _ (21:46) _

_ do you see the shit matt is trying to pull??? _

She picks at her food while waiting for a reply and stares in horror as Jessica kicks up a storm. 

_ Scarlett _ _  
_ _ (21:57) _

_ didn’t get 2 that ep yet!! _

Priyanka snorts and texts back “ _ lemme know when u do, it’s a shitshow _ ”. She checks her phone a few minutes later, but Scarlett doesn’t reply after that.

Her food is over in two more forkfuls. The episode reaches a lull so she leans back on the couch and lets Instagram distract her. Makeup, makeup, dog in a sweater, someone on holiday and…

“Billy Mason got a degree?” she yells at the empty living room. “What the fuck…”

Priyanka has always sort of assumed Billy Mason would waste his parents’ money in tuition just to have access to frat parties and flunk out once his liver couldn’t take another game of beer pong.

Huh.

A lawyer.

He was probably… God, she hopes not, but other than Priyanka, Billy was probably the last in their class to not have a degree. And now he has it.

Priyanka shuts down her laptop. Washes one dish, one fork, one glass. She doesn’t want to sleep, but she looks around the room and there’s nothing else to do. So she goes to bed.

* * *

  
  


She can do it. She can  _ do it _ . Three feet is nothing, barely half of her own height.

Stop being a fucking coward, Priyanka.

It’s scorching hot outside, not a drop of wind, yet she’s here at the top of this stupid three feet ramp, biding her time like she’s not on the verge of a heat stroke.

She sways her foot, back and forth, back and forth. Deep breath, she hops on the skate and slowly inches forward, teeth clenched but she’s doing it, she’s doing it but the skate wobbles right before the ledge and she jumps off like a cat. The skate does the ramp without her, then slides all the way across the park and bumps lamely against a concrete wall.

Priyanka stomps over to the skate and glares at it, half a mind to leave the stupid thing there, but she can’t afford to throw away a twenty-dollar impulse buy because she’s in her feelings about a stupid ramp. So she takes a deep breath and kicks up the skate into her hands, which she learned before anything else because it looked cool on YouTube and she could practice in her living room. She drops the skate in her backpack with more force than necessary, and it quenches her anger a little.

* * *

  
  


The little TV Priyanka dug out of her parents’ garage has been a saving grace at the store. Now she gets to watch María Laura be terribly conflicted because she’s being courted by two hot guys, while she sits at the register and eats ramen at six in the evening.

The door chimes ring and in comes a kid, not older than fourteen. Priyanka wipes her mouth with the back of her hand and welcomes him. The kid gives her a tense smile and wave, then walks to the shelves.

Priyanka frowns.

The kid is wearing a huge sweatshirt despite the heat, and he keeps glancing at her instead of the shelves. 

Now,  _ this _ could be interesting.

He is young enough that Priyanka doesn’t know him, but she thinks it’s one of the Roth kids from her block. Their mother puts terrible music at inhuman levels every morning and is a complete bitch.

The kid drops something with a clatter.

Priyanka gets up from the chair.

“Hey!” she says, loudly. “I’m gonna get something from the back room. If you need me, just yell, okay?”

“O-okay!”

Priyanka hides in the kitchenette and dicks around on her phone until she hears the door chimes. When she comes out, the kid is gone.

Well, that was fun.

The way Priyanka sees it, shoplifters are the only source of excitement in the store. They provide a service, and she pays them back by not being a snitch. That, and she does all the accounting, so no one ever notices. If she’s being honest, the owner wouldn’t notice if she set the place on fire.

Sometimes, she thinks about skipping a shift. Using the “Closed” sign and going to the beach in its best hours. Sit in the sand, stay for the sunset. Then, the very real possibility that the store will shut down creeps into her mind. She thinks about her rent and remembers how long it took to get this job and her parents were so relieved and how everyone says there are no more jobs in Santa Clara and her brain screams until she can’t breathe.

After those episodes, she’ll polish the floors, deep clean the freezers and be early all week. She’ll keep her head down, and just pray.

* * *

  
  


Priyanka puts off going home from work until ten, that night. She doesn’t feel like facing the emptiness of her house yet, but there is nothing else to do at the store, and at least at her place she can lay down.

She’s face down on her couch, tolerating the show on the TV. It’s bad, but not bad enough to make her get up and find the remote. Priyanka is convincing herself to eat dinner or at least something that resembles a vegetable, when her phone’s ringtone lets her know she’s getting a call from the one person she can’t ignore.

“Hi, mom!” she says, trying to put some energy in her voice.

“ _ Bachcha _ ! You don’t answer your phone, you don’t text, you’re gonna give your mother grey hairs.”

Priyanka sits up and rubs her hand over her face. She knew this was coming.

“I’m sorry,  _ mam'mī _ , I’ve been distracted. I promise I’ll text more.”

“How is your job? Are you working too hard?”

“I don’t think that’s even possible, ma,” Priyanka says, with a self deprecating laugh.

“You work hard, don’t say that, you work a lot.”

The insistence in her mom’s voice makes her smile.

“Thank you,  _ mam'mī _ .”

“Are you eating?”

“Yes. No, I mean, I’m going to right now, but yeah, I’m eating well.”

“Good. Your grandma called, so call her, she asked about you.”

“I- I don't have much to tell her, honestly. Same old same old, you know.”

There’s silence on the other side of the phone. Priyanka picks at the skin of her leg.

“Pri…”

“Mom, I gotta go. Scarlett needs help with dinner.”

“Oh! You’re with Scarlett?” her mom asks, with something in her voice that Priyanka interprets as relief. She puts on a big smile and aims for enthusiasm.

“Mmhm,” she says through gritted teeth. “I’m at her place!” 

“Okay, good, that’s good. Tell her I say hi.”

“Will do. Love you,  _ mam'mī _ .”

“Love you, baby.”

Her mom hangs up.

Priyanka huffs.

She hates lying to her parents, but when she thinks about the life she’s leading compared to the one they would want for her, she cannot think of another option.

* * *

  
  


It feels like she’s wading through dense air this morning. Out of bed is hard, out of the house is harder. The canopy of trees leading up to the skate park is momentary relief, but she has to leave their shadow too soon.

The sun is blinding, so it makes it even more surprising when she gets near the ramps and hears kids laughing. Priyanka shields her eyes and sees the kids are actually teenagers, which is somehow worse. One of them glances her way and then laughs with the others. Her stomach drops.

_ That wasn’t about me,  _ she thinks. _ I know that’s not about me _ .

Her breathing quickens a little. She’s looking back to where she came from, deciding.

On the ramps, some thirteen year old child slides smoothly down the tallest ramp and does a trick she’s only dreamt of.

Priyanka turns around and leaves.

It’s still an hour to her shift.

Maybe she could try skating behind the store’s dumpster.

* * *

  
  


The fan behind the register has started making a little clicking noise with every spin and it’s driving Priyanka up the walls, but the store has no air conditioning and there’s a heatwave. So she turns up the radio and tries to drown it out.

Earlier, she started mopping just to get out of the chair. Halfway through the task, she stared at the wet floor and asked herself what would happen if she didn’t finish. Would anyone even notice? If she hung herself in the supply closet, would anyone even notice?

She asked that at the dinner table, once. Only once. Her mom doesn’t like it when she says that.

* * *

  
  


Priyanka scoops out the last bit of mascara from the tube and finishes putting on her face, mouthing along her “girls night out” playlist. Dark lipstick, straight hair, hoop earrings. Not to be conceited, but she looks fucking good. She started getting ready early because she had nothing else to do and now there’s plenty of time to preen in front of the mirror. The pleather skirt she dug out of the closet makes her ass look amazing and goes perfect with her sequined top. 

It’s been weeks since she hung out with Scarlett, even longer since they’ve been to the bar.  _ The  _ bar.  _ The Nest  _ is the only bar functioning in October that will serve them after midnight. The drinks are bad but cheap, the music’s dated but good, and any remaining college girls get lured in by the neon lights that stand out in the dark street, like moths. Priyanka may even pick someone up today; it’s been a minute since she flexed those muscles, but she feels hot and wants to seize the last moment before the off season.

She’s trying to decide if she should put on her fake septum piercing when her phone rings from the living room. She sees the contact name and squeals.

“Scar! Girl, I’m almost ready-”

“Hey, Pri-”

“-still super early but I’m exciteeed! Is it lame that I'm this hype for  _ The Nest _ ?” she asks, while sorting through the contents of her jewelry drawer, which she emptied on the dining table.

“Actually, Pri, I was gonna ask if we can leave it for next week?”

Priyanka plops down on a chair.

“Oh.”

“Yeah, ‘cause… I had double shifts all week, you know how it is.”

“Sure, sure.”

“So if we can go out next Saturday? And I’ll buy all your drinks.”

Priyanka hears Scarlett talk, but she can’t tear her attention away from the tangled web of necklaces on the table. She should fix them, someday.

“Pri?” Scarlett’s voice brings her back down.

“Huh? No, yeah, totally. I’ll, uh, text me in the week, and we’ll see, okay?”

“Okay. I’m so sorry, Pri.”

“Don’t even worry about it, it’s fine, we’ll do it next Saturday,” she smiles into the phone. “‘kay, bye, love you.”

“Love you.”

_ Click. _

Well.

Priyanka stops the playlist. She shifts her hand over the necklaces and pulls at some of them. They don’t give. She takes a shaky breath. Dinner would be a good idea, but putting effort into something else right now sounds kinda hard.

She walks to her room and shimmies off her clothes on the way, leaves them on the floor for tomorrow. With a cleansing wipe, she rubs off most of the make up. The room’s stuffy so she opens the windows. Her eyes itch. When she rubs them, her fingers come away wet. Must be the cold air.

* * *

  
  


The heat wakes her up. The air is heavy, her head is pounding. At some point in the night, she kicked the sheets into a pile on the floor, but she’s still sweating.

It’s almost eleven, her phone says. She rubs off the indents the pillow left on her cheek and wets her parched mouth with old water she finds in glass on the floor, then plops back onto the bed, phone in hand.

She should get up.

Her bladder is full to the point where it hurts.

She should get up.

Her hips ache in protest at the amount of hours laying down.

She should get up.

Her phone has nothing new to show her.

She should get up.

Three hours pass like that. She stumbles out of bed ten minutes before her shift, pulls on the cleanest shirt she can find and goes out the door.

* * *

  
  


Sometimes, she thinks about skipping a shift. Using the “Closed” sign and going to the beach in its best hours. Sit on the sand, stay for the sunset. Standing up and walking into the sea, the waves pulling at her, water up to her neck, walking into the sea until she can’t move anymore.

* * *

  
  


It must be the world’s slowest shift. Priyanka is dozing off at the counter with her face propped on her hand, drooling a little, when her elbow slides out from under her and she almost breaks her nose against the counter. It wakes her up just in time to hear the door chimes.

In walks a really cute blonde that Priyanka doesn’t recognize. The girl smiles politely and walks to the shelves. Priyanka waves at her, dumbfounded, until she’s out of sight, then yanks one of the hand mirrors out of the display on the counter and frantically checks herself. She wipes off drool and pats down flyaways until she’s presentable. There’s no noise coming from the shelves, so she leans over the counter and tries to see what the girl is doing.

A cough from behind startles her.

“Do you sell blueberry ice cream?”

The girl’s on the last aisle, standing next to the ever-present puddle under the freezer, which Priyanka’s had fixed by three different technicians already.

“Oh, no, sorry.”

The girl frowns and goes back to scanning the freezers. It gives Priyanka the chance to really look.

She’s definitely a tourist. Priyanka would remember her. Her long hair is a bright yellow that matches her nails, glittery acrylics in different shades of yellow and gold. What calls Priyanka’s attention the most are her diamante earrings sparkling under the fluorescent light. They shine it back onto the girl’s hair and skin, and Priyanka feels oddly hypnotized.

The girl turns around and Priyanka looks away before she gets caught, faking interest in the lighters displayed by the register. The girl walks to the counter and sets down three giant tubs of Ben & Jerry’s. Up close, Priyanka notices the earrings say “bitch”. She smirks.

While the girl looks for her wallet, Priyanka rattles her brain for something to spark a conversation.

“That’s a lot of ice cream. Did you get dumped?”

Wrong something.

Some deity must be looking out for Priyanka, because the girl finds her funny by some miracle. She snorts a laugh and corrects her.

“My family’s having a movie marathon.”

“That's sweet, a quiet night in. You guys visiting?” This may be the most she’s said to a customer all week.

“Yeah, we try to spend summer together cause we live in different cities, and this place was a middle point.”

“How’d you find Santa Clara? Most people go to the next town over after the summer, ‘cause they have more than just beaches. There’s not much to do here.”

The girl sighs.

“I'm aware, sadly. They came here before having kids, so there’s the nostalgia factor. But it’s made them even cornier than before. They’re disgustingly in love, we can’t see a fucking rock without them going down memory lane.”

Pri leans forward, charmed.

“That’s adorable!”

“Ugh, I guess.” She rolls her eyes, but Priyanka spots the fond smile she’s holding back. “I’m Lemon.”

“Priyanka. Cute earrings.”

“Thanks,” says Lemon, flipping her hair over her shoulder. “I have another pair that say ‘slut’, but my mom asked me not to bring those.”

“What a buzzkill!”

By now, they’re both leaning towards each other, close enough that Priyanka can see the freckles on her nose. Lemon takes the lighter from under Priyanka’s hand and slides it around the counter.

“So… what do you like to do for fun around here?”

Priyanka hears the question and she really wants to answer, but Lemon is looking at her under her big eyelashes, and it’s hard to form a sentence.

“Priyanka?”

“Huh? Oh, yeah! Sorry.” She reaches for the pile of flyers on the counter and slaps one in front of Lemon. “Here!”

Lemon raises an eyebrow and opens the flyer.

“What’s this?”

“Travel brochure!” Pri explains, with more enthusiasm than warranted. But God, she’s rusty. “It has a list of restaurants and attractions, and-” she turns the flyer upside down “-look, a map of the town.”

Lemon smiles and nods.

“I see. Well!” She pockets the flyer and stacks up the ice cream tubs, holding them against her chest. “Thanks for all your help and uh- I’ll see you around.” Lemon walks carefully to the door and tries to open it with her elbow.

“You need a hand?” Pri offers.

“No, no! It’s okay,” Lemon dismisses her with a big smile. She finally manages to open the door and leaves quickly.

Priyanka is left alone, again, wondering if there is something she missed.

* * *

  
  


Scarlett makes good on her promise and gets Priyanka drunk out of pocket the following Saturday. 

They've been at  _ The Nest _ for two hours and danced for most of it, but Scarlett asked for a break and is still recovering at their table with her girlfriend. She gets tired quicker these days. That happens when people settle down, or so Priyanka’s been told. Tynomi was the first to go from their group, when she lesbianed out with her partner, got a kid and a house a year into the relationship. She still lives in Santa Clara, but has slowly fazed them out of her life, consciously or not. Juice was next, when she followed a relationship all the way to another state. And now Scarlett’s moving in with Stephanie, and Priyanka is losing her last wingwoman, so she needs to be more self-sufficient on her nights out.

It’s part of why she’s at the bar by herself, sipping her drink and casing the crowd, looking for any viable options. It’s slim pickings, at this time of the year. There’s not many girls left from out of town, and they just keep getting younger. Or, God, she may be getting older… 

Either way, it’s pointless. Her heart’s just not in it, and if she’s being honest, the main reason she’s standing at the bar is she doesn’t want to be at the table. It could be paranoia, but Priyanka gets the feeling that Scarlett’s girlfriend doesn’t like her very much. Out of the million reasons why that Priyanka comes up with, the most likely is that one time she got drunk at their place and cheerfully announced to Stephanie that she had made out with all of her friends at one point, Scarlett included. So Priyanka doesn’t blame the girl for acting a little cold towards her, or for draping herself possessively over Scarlett like she’s doing now, as they approach Priyanka.

“Hey, we’re gonna get going. Steph’s got work tomorrow, and I’m wiped out.”

“Alright, guys. Thanks for coming out, tonight, I had fun,” and she hopes Scarlett can hear how much she means it.

“Do you need a ride?”

Priyanka considers the offer. It’s late and the streets are deserted, but she thinks about going back to the empty apartment and her chest aches.

“Nah, I’ll just walk home.”

“Alright, let me know when you get home,” says Scarlett, and brings her in for a hug. “I love you.”

“Bye, love you too.”

And just like that, Priyanka’s alone again. The DJ changes songs so slowly that she can hear the slurping noise of her empty glass in the silence. She sets it on the bar and gives a cursory glance to the crowd. Some couples migrate from the dance floor to the couches and get gross. With a huff, Priyanka goes out to the patio.

Something about beach towns is that sand gets in every single building, no matter how fancy, and  _ The Nest _ is definitely not fancy. Priyanka kicks a tiny dune out of the way and leans her back against the wall of the bar, then digs a packet of cigarettes out of her jeans. She doesn't love the taste, or the smell, or the going outside in the cold, but she gets fidgety when her hands are empty.

Priyanka lights one up and shrugs on her flannel shirt as she inhales, then blows a cloud of smoke up to the sky. When the smoke dissipates, it reveals a clear night filled with bright stars. The sight leaves her a little breathless. Why does she always forget to look up?

“Hey.”

Pri looks down and is met with a friendly smile.

“Oh, hey! You found something to do.”

Lemon’s in a flowery set of shorts and off shoulder shirt, and very high heels that still don’t bring her to Priyanka’s full height, even in sneakers. 

“Yeah, I was walking down the main street and saw the neon lights, so I figured I'd come in and get a drink.”

“Still works...”

“What?”

“Nothing. So, where’s your drink?” Pri changes the theme swiftly and flicks ash off her cigarette.

“Please, pretty girls don’t buy their own drinks,” Lemon says, swishing her long hair over her shoulder. It makes Priyanka laugh, but she knows it’s not a joke. “I’m just looking for the right buyer.” Lemon offers a cheeky smile that Priyanka chooses not to read into. Just in case.

She gets the cigarettes out and offers them to Lemon.

“Oh, no thanks, I don’t smoke. That.”

Pri smiles around her cigarette and pockets them again.

“So, you’re here alone?” she asks.

“No, I’m here with you. Duh,” Lemon rolls her eyes. “And you?”

"My friends left a minute ago. I stayed behind, because… I'm not sure why." she explains, frowning, looking at the scattered couples making out in the bushes.

Lemon follows her line of sight.

“Ah,” she says, nodding in understanding. “Looking for a cute guy?”

Priyanka blows out smoke, slowly.

“Try again.”

“Cute girl?”

“You got it.”

There’s a half-second of silence that stretches forever in Priyanka’s mind. Coming out to strangers is always a coin flip.

To her relief, Lemon doesn’t walk away. Instead, she leans on the wall next to Priyanka, arms crossed and eyebrows furrowed, like a woman on a mission.

“Even better. Who caught your eye?”

Priyanka stares at Lemon, a bit dumbfounded. She takes in how the lights around them reflect on her bright yellow hair, her lipgloss and the highlighter on her cheekbones, until Lemon herself is a bright spot in the night.

“No one, really. I don’t know, after so many rounds of the summer cycle, the whole thing gets boring.”

“Summer cycle?”

Pri stubs the cigarette on the wall, nodding.

“Mhm. Happens every year, like clockwork.”

Lemon raises an eyebrow in question and Priyanka elaborates.

“Young people love this town, for some reason. From June to August, we get mostly families. Come September, they run away in horror from the avalanche of broke twenty year olds taking advantage of post-summer discounts. They come looking for hot sand and hotter girls,” Pri says, doing her best Miss America pose.

“And instead, they find you.”

Priyanka loses her pose, slack-jawed at the unexpected burn. When she looks at Lemon, she clocks her barely contained smile and it makes laugh. Lemon finally breaks character and joins her.

“For your information, a lot of people have tried to get with all of this,” she says, running her hands down her body.

“I’m sure.”

“Like I was saying, before you so rudely interrupted me: September brings a wide catalogue of Alisons and Katelyns and Melanies, there's always a Melanie. So you get a beautiful summer romance or a beautiful ten minutes in a bathroom stall, and then you never see them again.”

“Aren’t you worried that you’ll run into an ex fling next year? It could be awkward, there’s only like three bars in this town.”

“Not really,” Priyanka says, kicking at the sand. “No one ever comes back.”

When she looks up, Lemon has this expression that borders on pity, and Priyanka can’t stand it.

“How about you?” she throws a new topic. “Are you looking for a sweet, summer romance?”

Lemon smiles, looking out to the crowd.

“I suppose. But I got brutally rejected at a supermarket, yesterday, so.”

Priyanka ‘hms’ in acknowledgement. A beat later, she realizes what they’re talking about.

“You were flirting with me.”

“I asked what you like to do around town.”

“And I gave you a pamphlet,” Priyanka says, burying her face in her hands.

Lemon smiles and scrunches her nose.

“Yeah, I was looking for a more hands-on recommendation. Maybe a tour…”

Priyanka laughs and tries not to cringe at the memory.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to shut you down like that.”

“No, that was on me, I shouldn’t have tried it while you were working. I’m just so bored already,” she says, knocking her head back on the wall. “My parents are doing gross, couple-y shit and my sister completely bailed on me. And, I guess you looked cool.”

“You call that a compliment?”

“And pretty.”

“That’s better. God, girl, I gotta teach you everything?” she teases, surprised at her own boldness.

Lemon looks at her, amused, and slowly walks into Priyanka’s space until they’re almost touching. Priyanka gulps.

“Do you feel like dancing?”

Yes. Definitely, yes.

Priyanka nods. Lemon takes her hand and leads her to the dance floor.

* * *

  
  


Lemon is a good dancer. And a good drinker. They buy three rounds of god-awful shots that make Priyanka gag loudly, but Lemon barely purses her lips. She does get more handsy with each one, but Priyanka’s not complaining.

More than anything, Lemon is  _ fun _ . They dance until their legs ache and then some, and mock the cheesy lines of guys who try and fail to flirt with them. When the lights go up, they loiter outside, neither trying to part ways.

“Where are you staying?”

“Um, Hillside Inn. Four blocks that way,” Lemon says, pointing with an outstretched arm. Priyanka takes it and veers it to the left.

“It is  _ that _ way. I’ll walk you home, it’s dark and the streets all look the same if you’re not local.”

Lemon looks her up and down and smirks.

“So chivalrous.”

Priyanka rolls her eyes and starts leading her down the block with a hand on her lower back.

“Come on. Your glow stick hair will light the way.”

  
  


Outside Lemon’s place, Priyanka realizes she’s kept her hand on Lemon the whole time. Except, at some point, she moved it from her back to the side of her waist. She hides both hands in her pockets and goes to say something, but Lemon claps her hands in front of her chest and closes her eyes, breathing deeply. Priyanka looks around them wide eyed for clues on what the hell she’s doing.

“...Lem? What are you doing?”

“I need to sober up so I can go inside without waking up my parents,” Lemon explains, eyes still closed. “Gimme a second.” She takes another deep breath, and when she opens her eyes, it’s like she’s never touched a drop of alcohol in her life.

Priyanka blinks, impressed.

“You’re a scary bitch.”

“Thank you!” she says, tucking both thumbs into the waist of her shorts. She sways in place, neither speaking nor leaving.

“Hey, um, if you’re still looking for things to do,” Priyanka starts, “there’s an amusement park next town. It’s half an hour by car, but-”

“I have a car.”

“And I have tomorrow off!” Priyanka tells her, a little too loud for the hour. “If- if you still want the hands-on tour, I mean.” Man, she is way out of practice.

“I’d love that. Give me your number and we’ll talk tomorrow.”

See? That is way smoother, Pri.

The girls switch phones and save their contacts, and Lemon texts her a smiley face for good measure.

“Let’s say, tomorrow at six? If you want, I can pick you up.”

“I’ll text you my address.”

“It's a date, then.” Lemon flashes a blinding smile.

Priyanka absolutely does not blush.

“‘Kay, talk to you later,” she says, already walking backwards.

She takes a few steps before Lemon shouts out:

“Text me when you get home!”

Priyanka turns in time to see Lemon cover her mouth, like she realizes she’s yelling at three in the morning. 

“Alright, stalker, I’ll text you,” she teases, but still makes a mental note to do so.

“Ugh, never mind, don’t ever talk to me.”

“You got it.” Priyanka makes finger guns at Lemon and makes herself walk away.

* * *

  
  


First thing she does is let Scarlett know she’s home. Then, she kicks off her shoes and dumps her clothes on the growing pile of laundry that she’ll do first thing in the morning, for sure. She takes the time to clean her face and brush her hair, and tries to formulate a good text to send Lemon. 

She gets in bed with her phone and sends a simple:  _ im home! _

Lemon sends back a yellow heart and an angel emoji, and Priyanka thinks that’s that, but it’s followed by a  _ can’t wait for tomorrow!  _ that makes her smile into the pillow.

Priyanka leaves her phone on the floor and goes to sleep.

She can’t sleep.

The room is dark and cool, and she’d been so tired just a second ago. But there’s a persistent buzz in her chest that won’t let her sleep, and it takes her a moment to realize it is excitement.

After tossing and turning for a while, she jumps out of bed and starts planning an outfit for the next day.

* * *

  
  


Lemon drives a 1970 Dodge Polara in light yellow. Not what Priyanka has been expecting, especially the stick shift aspect of it, which has Lemon pushing it forcefully and making the muscles of her arm stand out.

Priyanka watches the tension and release of her muscles, attentive, and the car feels too warm all of a sudden. When she tries to roll down a window, the handle whirrs loudly and it makes her snort, which she tries to stifle behind her hand. Lemon still raises an eyebrow at her and smiles sideways.

“You don’t get to make fun of my car, okay? I’ve had her since high school.”

“Her.”

“Yes, her name is Betty and she’s family, so watch it, missy.”

Priyanka raises both hands in surrender, then fiddles with the radio.

“Does Betty have music?” she asks, trying to find a station. 

“There's cds in the glove compartment” Lemon points out helpfully.

“Cds?” asks Priyanka, frowning. Sure enough, there’s a CD wallet in the compartment, so full that the zip almost doesn't open. She flips through their options and sees way more musical soundtracks than expected. “Why do you have this?”

“My sister’s from the early nineties, so she has old people shit like this. Don’t tell her I said that, though, she’ll kill me.”

“That’s not my pr- You have  _ Spiceworld _ ??” Priyanka yells, already jamming the cd in the radio.

Lemon looks amused at her antics, and more than amused when Priyanka starts belting  _ Stop  _ with the windows down and attracts looks from everyone on the street. Most of them Priyanka knows and has to see every week, but she doesn’t hold back. In her mind, she only has an audience of one.

Halfway to their destination, she coaxes Lemon into a duet of  _ Too Much _ by poking and pushing her arm until they’re both yelling off-key and Priyanka is all in her feelings, and it goes like that until they get to Calico Beach.

Lemon navigates the city under Priyanka’s instructions, and it’s a testament to the lack of tourists how easy it is to find parking a block from the park.

The man at the ticket stand has known Priyanka since she was in diapers, and she works a little small-town charm to get them discounts. Lemon looks at her, impressed, and makes it hard for Priyanka not to preen.

The girls walk into the park looking around, trying to decide where to go.

“What do you wanna do first? There’s a haunted house, but we should wait until dark.”

“Hmm, how about shooting games? I also really want cotton candy.”

“Uh-uh, you’re not getting on any ride with me after eating. You’ll get vomit on my nice shirt,” Priyanka says, stretching the hem.

“That  _ is _ a nice shirt,” Lemon says, giving her a once over. “Did you get all dressed up for me?”

“Pff, no? This is for Carl, he runs the ferris wheel.”

Lemon stops on her tracks.

“They have a ferris wheel?” she says, mistified.

“A tiny one.” Priyanka looks at Lemon and smiles at the way her eyes twinkle, like a little kid’s. “Do you want to go on it?”

“Absolutely. But later. Let’s wait until it’s dark so we can see the city lights,” Lemon says, almost hopping on the spot.

“Oh, you are adorable,” Priyanka tells her. “You wanna see the lights, do you? You got a pretty girl to ride the ferris wheel with you?”

“Shut up,” Lemon hip checks her, making her laugh.

Priyanka flutters her eyelashes at her and gasps.

“Gosh, if I’m lucky, maybe I’ll even get to hold your hand!”

Lemon rolls her eyes, but she still laces their fingers together.

They walk by the forest themed train for kids, pointing out the terrifying faces of the characters. There’s a squirrel as tall as them, an elf with half a face, and Snow White is spending her break hidden behind a tree cutout, smoke in one hand and wig in the other.

The shooting games are more fun than expected. Priyanka shows off her water gun skills and wins a pair of shitty plastic bracelets that Lemon insists they put on immediately. Lemon tries her luck throwing balls at a pyramid of bottles that Priyanka is pretty sure are glued down, except apparently Lemon is a professional pitcher, because she throws baseballs like bullets and knocks down the whole thing on the first try. Even the stand host is surprised.

Lemon gets to pick from the biggest prices, and she gets a strawberry-shaped plushie with dangly legs and a rattle inside.

"My dog’s gonna love this,” she says as she shakes it.

"You have a dog?”

Lemon lights up.

“His name is Gus and he’s an angel. I had to leave him with my sister because the inn doesn’t allow pets, and car rides scare him. He’s a giant baby.”

Priyanka isn’t commenting, just enjoying how Lemon gets lost in her rambling.

“Do you have pets?”

“Oh, no. I’m barely keeping myself alive.”

Priyanka sneaks a glance at Lemon to gauge her reaction. That kind of comment usually brings on a torrent of worried comments and scolding, but Lemon just laughs. It’s refreshing. It’s relief.

“I do have a basil plant, but it’s not looking too hot,” she says, and Lemon grins.

They pass their time in spinning cups and crushing carts and a rollercoaster that Priyanka tells Lemon she’s too short to ride, until it gets dark enough and they can go on the ferris wheel.

Waiting in line, Lemon is so excited she’s bouncing on the balls of her feet, unaware that Priyanka is restless for a different reason. Because it could be presumptuous, but she’s seen enough garbage rom-coms to know what’s expected to happen on a ferris wheel. And she’s not sure if it’s a  _ date  _ date, but… Priyanka tried five different outfits to be there, and Lemon’s been holding her hand the whole time.

The ride technician gets them into the car and they’re off. The ride is slow and smooth up until the first stop, where the entire wheel shakes and screeches. Lemon’s hand shoots for Priyanka’s and she looks at her with wide eyes.

"Yeah, nothing here is in the best condition,” she explains. “But, no one’s died yet, so,” she crosses her fingers in front of Lemon.

"If I die in this tin can, the last thing I see will be your dumb face,” Lemon jokes. She’s still clutching Priyanka’s hand.

"You should be so lucky,” she teases, trying to distract Lemon. “Hey, I have a question. What’s with your name?”

Lemon smiles and relaxes her hand.

“My sister started it, sort of. She couldn’t say my name well when she was little, it sounded more like ‘lemon’. And I’ve always really liked yellow. Clearly,” she points at her hair, “so it stuck.”

Priyanka nods, satisfied with the backstory. Still, curiosity pulls.

“Do you share your full name?” she asks.

Lemon looks at Priyanka in silence for a moment, like she’s gauging her. Whatever she finds must be favourable, because her expression softens into something gentle, almost shy.

“Elena.”

“Oh, that’s so pretty!” Priyanka reassures her with enthusiasm. It makes Lemon brighten up again. 

“Thank you. It means ray of light. That’s how I got this sunny personality,” she deadpans.

“Of course you would know that, you’re obsessed with yourself.”

“Wait, what does your name mean?”

“That my parents have good taste.”

Their seat finally reaches the top, and they both stop talking.

From up there, there’s a good view of the city and the multicolored lights of the shops on main road. Just beyond that, the rising tide covers the shore, and the moon’s reflection breaks on the water.

Lemon stares at the night, mouth agape and eyes wide, the park’s lights dancing in her eyes.

“This is gorgeous.”

“It is,” Priyanka says, looking at Lemon. A smile slowly forms on Lemon’s lips and it makes Pryanka squeeze her hand. It’s not for attention, but it gets Lemon’s.

She finally turns to Priyanka and notices her gaze, and it makes her let out a shaky breath. Priyanka’s eyes flicker down to her lips, how they part slightly, how they smile knowingly.

“We’re having our first kiss on top of a ferris wheel,” Lemon says, leaning forward.

“I know.”

“We’re disgusting.”

“I know.”

They do it anyway.

* * *

  
  


Lemons does get her cotton candy, in between a dozen more kisses. After the wheel, they follow the smell of popcorn all the way to the food stands and eat their weight in sugar. Sated, sticky, and giggling like children, they get through a few more rounds of games before the sugar crash catches up to them.

They leave the park sleepy and yawning, holding onto each other.

* * *

  
  


Lemon drives her home. Priyanka has half a mind to invite her in, but remembers the mess that’s become of her house. Another day.

Instead, she settles for leaning over the console and kissing Lemon long and deep in the car, then pecks her once, twice, three times for good measure. When they part, Lemon’s eyes take time to flutter open. They smile sweetly in silence until Lemon breaks it.

“Not to be cheesy, but I had fun today. Thank you. For going with me.”

“Thank you for inviting me!”

“You sort of invited yourself.”

“And you’re so welcome.”

They laugh, and then it’s silent again. And it’s senseless, but Priyanka tries to stay very still and not break their bubble, like maybe that way she won’t have to say goodbye. 

“So, listen. I’m gonna be here the whole month,” Lemon says. “And I don't feel like third wheeling my parents for it. So if you don’t have big plans, I’d like to see the rest of the town with you. If you’re up for it.”

From how Lemon lowers her voice, Priyanka can tell she’s nervous, like rejection is even in the realm of possibility. Had they been at the same date?

“Yeah, I’d like that. There’s really not much to do but I had fun with you.”

“Great,” Lemon smiles bright. “What’s your work schedule?”

“I work afternoons from two to nine. I'm usually busy by one, but my mornings are free. And my nights!” she says too loudly, and blushes when she hears the implication.

“Oh, are they?” Lemons smirks.

“Shut up,” Priyanka says, pushing her cheek away. “I’ll text you tomorrow and we can make plans, deal?”

“Deal.”

They say goodbye with another kiss. Priyanka walks up to her door. She stands in the steps, and waves Lemon goodbye until she’s out of sight.

* * *

  
  


Priyanka is dozing off in bed when her phone buzzes.

_ Lemon  _ ✨   
_ (00:14) _

_ Priyanka: from the Sanskrit word 'Priyankera' or 'Priyankara', meaning someone that is amiable, lovable, or makes you happy and very talkative.” _

_ fitting! _

She sends back a heart and falls asleep smiling.

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings for mild suicidal ideation, and depression in general.
> 
> So there it is! My first multichap, and evey comment makes my write the next one faster, so you know what to do.


End file.
